One To Watch(58)

Bea didn’t know if it was possible that she could fall in love on this show, but if she was going to try—really try—she knew this step had to come first, even if she was about to plunge headlong into utter humiliation.

“Hey,” she said to Asher as she approached their group. “Can we talk for a second?”

“Oh.” He looked apprehensive. “Sure. Of course.”

He handed baby Alice back to Julia, and together they walked over to a quartet of Japanese maples Bob had planted when Bea was little—one for each of the four kids. The trees had been saplings then, but they were nearly twenty feet tall now, their branches long and twisted, leaves flashing crimson in the orange light before sunset.

“Are you all right?” Asher looked concerned. “I didn’t think—I mean, I’m surprised you want to talk to me.”

“Me too.” Bea laughed a little, mostly from nerves—but, she was amazed to discover, a little bit from joy. “I wanted to apologize, actually.”

Now Asher looked downright wary. “What for?”

“What you said on the boat,” Bea fumbled the words, “that you didn’t think I was here to fall in love. I was angry at you for saying it on camera, and for saying it at the end of such an awful day. But mostly, I was angry because you were right.”

Understanding dawned on Asher’s face, and his expression softened.

“When I came here, I was still, um, getting over someone. Who really hurt me, and—and I didn’t know if I was ready to meet someone new. Then on the first night, seeing all of you for the first time, that sealed it. I thought there was no way any of you could possibly have feelings for me, so why would I risk my heart for you? It didn’t seem worth it. Then at the museum, I thought maybe I was wrong, but then at the end of the night, when you … well.”

Asher took a step toward her. “Bea, I need to tell you, about that night—”

“Please,” she stopped him, “just let me get this out, okay? I need to say this.”

He nodded. Her heart was pounding, and she thought for a second about changing her mind—but she knew, from somewhere deep, that she had to go on.

“I don’t know why you didn’t want to kiss me,” she said quietly. “Maybe you’re not attracted to me, or maybe you sensed me holding back, or—I don’t know, something else. But I want to tell you, um. That I think you’re great. And I really like you. And if you can—I mean, if you want to—I want to try. That’s what I wanted to say.”

Asher took another step forward, and for a moment she thought he was going to wrap his arms around her—he didn’t.

But God, she wanted him to.

“Bea, the reason I didn’t kiss you at the museum is because I have two children.”

Bea gaped in disbelief. “I’m sorry. You what?”

“I know.” He smiled sadly. “I should have told you. My son is the one who submitted me for this show; I never would have come here if it hadn’t meant so much to him. I thought there was no way I’d actually be interested in a woman I met on reality television of all places, that I’d be here for a week or two at most and come home with nothing more than a funny story to tell my students. But then I met you, and you were … nothing like I expected.”

Bea felt anxious. “In a bad way?”

“No.” Asher laughed. “In every way. You were so quick-witted with Johnny and the other men, and kind of mean and over this whole thing in the same way I was. I found myself wanting to spend more time with you, and I was furious you didn’t seem to want that too. Do you remember the first thing you said to me?”

Bea flushed with horror at the memory of how cold she’d been to Asher on the night of the premiere, still reeling that the man before him had simply walked offstage.

“I told you to go ahead and leave.”

Asher nodded. “I told myself I’d stick around long enough to get to know you, see if there might be an attraction between us. Then, at the museum … I can’t remember the last time I felt like that. I wanted—well, I think you know what I wanted.”

“I didn’t, Asher. I thought you were repulsed by me.”

His face fell in dismay. “You can’t be serious.”

She nodded, and he took her hand.

“Bea, I am so sorry.”

“Me too,” she whispered.

He lifted her hand to his chest so she could feel his heart pounding, leaned down so his face was inches from hers.

“When I walked out of that museum,” he said softly, “I thought I was protecting my kids. They know how it feels to be abandoned, and with the way this show is set up, the odds of us actually pursuing a relationship outside of it? The idea of risking their hopes—and mine—seemed indefensible.”

Bea’s breath was shallow. “And now?”

“Now I think the only indefensible action would be to let you go.”

Then his hands were in her hair and he was kissing her, a hard, fast release and there was nothing false about it, nothing pretend and nothing safe, swirling laughter and panic and comfort and free fall and every, every second captured on the whirring cameras, their bodies warm and intertwined against the chill spring air.

It felt like terror. It felt like freedom.